Stuck
by Jules Grace
Summary: AU: After a catastrophic falling out with the press, Princess Zelda Harkinian has resorted to attending Castleton High in hopes of redeeming her reputation with the people of Hyrule as well as the tabloids. Then she meets Link Forester, a quick-witted young delinquent, and all hell seems to break loose. Zelink.
1. Tic Tac Toe

**Hello! This is my first publication on this site, and I am very excited to present you all with the first chapter of Stuck! This is an AU story, and there will be an array of familiar characters pulled from many of the amazing games of the Zelda franchise. There are no OCs.**

 **Please enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter One**  
 **Tic-Tac-Toe**

Zelda Harkinian could hardly believe her eyes.

In reality, not a single occurrence such as this had ever happened to her before—at least, not anything quite like it. She was rarely ever shocked, or surprised, or taken aback by any situation that should have resulted in the sort. At all times, she managed to retain a cool and collected countenance, no matter the circumstances.

However, one could say that this was a rather special occasion.

On the morning of her official public debut as a "normal high school girl"—Malon always did have a flare for the disgustingly cliche—Zelda was appalled to find so many of the paparazzi already lined up at the main entrance of Castleton High. It wasn't even seven yet, and still, the damned gossip snobs managed to arrive in hoards just so they could get the story first. She felt her nose habitually wrinkle in appropriate distaste.

It wasn't like she wasn't _expecting_ it—the media photographers were always a nagging constant in her life; like an infestation of ants she could never truly seem to remedy. The fact that so many of the media labels and magazine heads had caught wind of her so-called "necessary return to normalcy" so soon had strangely struck a nerve with her. All she could do was stare dumbfound at the flashing bulbs that went off like bombs as soon as she had emerged from the backseat of her car.

Her entire body was shaking with a distinct mixture of angst and rage. Crescent-shaped markings embedded into the palm of her hand as her clenched fists tensed tighter and tighter.

A familiar hand propped itself on her shoulder. "Ease up just a tad," Impa Shades warned under her breath. "They'll eat you alive if you snap now."

Zelda inhaled sharply, refusing to release her tensions. She realized that Impa was not referring to the paparazzi flies anymore—a number of uniformed students had decided to intermingle with them, their obnoxious blue and green uniforms failing to blend in with the black attire of the photographers and journalists. Young, gossip-hungry eyes examined her up and down, eager to either get to know her or dish out whatever headline the paparazzi was already creating in their heads.

She could see it all now: "Princess Zelda Honoria Alexandria Harkinian the VI — Future Leader or Future Asylum Patient?!" That headline, of course, was a possibility if she decided to act upon her bubbling anger in a manner that was most unbecoming of a princess and most flattering on a promising psychopath.

Still, despite her internal emotions, she managed to keep a gentle, kind upfront—something she had learned to master after years of media harassment. She drew a deep breath, and relaxed her fists, folding them lightly in front of her skirt. "Don't worry, Impa. I'm completely fine," she managed through a perfect smile. She'd perfected the regality a princess was required of years ago—using it in a public school setting should be of the same effect as if it were yet another diplomatic affair, which in its own way it was.

Impa shot her a quick look of concern before reverting to her stoney expression. Without a word, her caretaker handed her the dark leather satchel, filled with textbooks and notecards, and encouragingly tapped her on the small of her back as a signal that it was safe to proceed.

Zelda sighed. Adjusting the satchel onto her shoulder, she strode towards her focused goal point: the front doors. Flashes and exclamations of pressuring questions and interrogations were thrown at her left and right as she hurriedly made her way to her much needed reprieve.

Except she was rewarded with more gaping stares and ear piercing screams of hysteria.

Upon entering the main building, a mass of students gathered in the lobby to greet her—whether it was formal or informal, she could not differentiate. Many were lined up almost identical to the way the paparazzi were just outside, while others managed to keep up a normal schedule and sporadically break away from the majority.

Zelda had to refrain from slapping her palm to her forehead. With the smile still plastered on her lips, she began to move once more. It startled her when her eyes caught a small trio of faculty members waiting for her at the end of the walkway. (At this point, it already felt like she had been walking on some kind of red carpet reserved specifically for her. Needless to say, it was very annoying.) _Only twenty minutes in, and I'm drowning in a cesspool of unbearable insanity_.

Surpassing many euphoric "hi's" and disturbingly lustful stares from the male populous, a well-manicured hand shot out in front of her.

"Pleasure," the owner of the hand greeted. A woman with striking gold eyes and a rather obvious spray tan grinned down at her—a foot taller than Zelda, it felt as if she were metaphorically and physically looking down on her. "I'm Nabooru Sands, vice principal of Castleton High. We are so very pleased to have you as an official student, Your Highness."

All of the vice principal's words were smooth and official, as if each syllable had a meaning. The air of strict professionalism as well as a pleasing easiness this woman upheld made Zelda relax just a tad.

As rehearsed the night before, Zelda grasped the VP's hand and shook. "Zelda Harkinian will do just fine," she said with a subtle laugh. "I'm honored to be apart of such a fine educational establishment."

Lie. And a well-fabricated one at that.

The taller woman next to her stepped forward. With sleeked black hair and an expression that demanded respect, her sharp eyes met Zelda's with such a fierce glare that she almost staggered backwards. Another shocking development—that made it twice in one day.

"Veran Black, principal." It wasn't an introduction—it was a firm statement of power. "Your Highness, while it is with great honor that we welcome you to Castleton High, I must be the bearer of bad news: under no circumstances whatsoever will you be treated differently than any other student here." Zelda stiffened as the principal inched closed to her. "If by any means there are any disruptions caused by those media dogs out there—" She jabbed a prosecuting thumb in the outside direction. "—I will have supreme authority as to take care of the situation as I see fit. In addition to this, I do not want any special privileges to be arranged for you or for your followers out there, as that would set an extremely poor example of reality to your fellow students. As I cannot legally ban them from public property, I can have them and you forcibly removed from the premises if any harm comes to the students and/or the faculty and staff. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

"Of course, ma'am." Zelda, although trained expertly in how to handle diplomatic demands such as these, was completely derailed by the principal's obviously stated disdain for her and the lifestyle she was forced to endure since birth. In hopes to alleviate things, she added, "I hope you can understand, however, that the people outside are in no means related to me in any possible way other than that I am seen as a step closer to a considerable raise in their next paycheck."

Veran's cool, black eyes scanned her up and down. "Be that as it may, I will do whatever it takes to protect this school from any sort of shameful advertising that you could very well subject it to. I take it you can at least understand that much, Your Royal Highness." The words were spoken with such venom that Zelda almost flinched in retaliation. Nowadays, it was hard to distinguish who was a supporter of her father and who was not, but the woman before made it crystal clear: she was not happy with the current figureheads of Hyrule—especially with Zelda herself.

And honestly, who could blame her?

Without so much as giving Zelda a chance to respond, she nodded and gestured to the timid man that stood behind her. "This is Mr. Shad, the ancient history teacher. He will escort you to your first class."

With that, Principal Veran Black whisked past her in a graceful stride to break up the crowd of students that were eagerly watching Zelda's every move. The vice principal, Nabooru, clapped her on the back. "No need to worry about that one," she said, her voice carrying much more levity than it had before. "She's a stiff one, but she's got her reasons. Anyways, Shaddy here will take you to your first block, and assign you a student who's going to show you the ropes around here."

Zelda blanked. "I beg your pardon?"

Nabooru laughed. "You didn't think we'd throw you to the dogs all on your own did you?"

"I suppose not, but assigning me an escort is highly—"

"No need to thank us just yet. You never know what nutcase you're going to be paired up with, especially if Shad's the one who's got to pick 'em for you!"

The teacher, Shad, chuckled nervously beside her.

It took all of her willpower not to explode in protest. "Ms. Sands, I really believe that all of the formalities your staff has organized are very unnecessary. I am able to figure all of it out myself, truly."

Nabooru released another bellowing laugh. "Seriously, princess, we have it all taken care of. And besides, you'll only have help the first month during your stay, for administrative reasons of course. Think of it as a chance at making a new friend, rather than having an escort." She placed a hand on the princess's shoulder, who tensed defensively on contact. "Alright, here's a deal for you. If you really hate having an 'escort'—" She air quoted the word. "—then feel free to come straight to me, and I'll personally see to it that you will not be bothered during your duration of study here. But really, you've got to give this a chance. Can you at least promise me that?"

With much reluctance, Zelda agreed with a short nod. It was rare for her to follow orders from an inferior, but the pleasing air Nabooru gave off did not dispel so easily, and she found it hard to refuse such an easy-going person.

"Excellent!" Nabooru clapped her on the back once more. "Also, just call me Nabooru, or at least VP. Ms. Sands makes me feel weird. Good luck!"

She didn't even want to inquire on how the formal addressing of the VP made said VP feel weird.

Left alone with the pressure of her satchel weighing down on her shoulder and an awkward history teacher as her guide, Zelda felt utterly trapped.

She felt even more so when Shad gave her a wary glance.

"So—" _Goddesses_. "Shall we, Your Highness?"

She cast an inquisitive eye on her new homeroom teacher—Shad. He had rust-colored hair that was dappled with traces of blonde, and fidgety dark green eyes that hid appropriately behind thick rimmed glasses that were pushed at the highest point on his bird-like nose. He looked fresh out of university, and appeared to have had an immense amount of trouble transitioning into an adult—he still very much looked like an anxious young student to her.

That did not give her much reassurance in all of this.

Shad led the two of them down a vast number of corridors and stone hallways, maneuvering around admiring stares and wandering eyes of the students that they crossed paths with. Zelda could practically feel the hum of the gossip vibrate throughout the entire school. Her nerves were suddenly on fire.

She wrung her hands in angst. The only reason she agreed to do something as foolish as finish her studies in a public setting was because of her father. If only he hadn't coaxed her into fixing everything; if only he had settled for a more reasonable, a more private solution to their problems, perhaps—

The teacher in front of her abruptly stopped in front of a framed doorway. Above it hung a sign that read "Room 333." A plate with his name on it was placed idly on the door's right. Beyond the door, excited chatter could be heard, and movement dressed in the school's blue and green color scheme streaked swiftly across the narrow glass that peered into the classroom.

Zelda's nerves were heavily aflame. Butterflies drummed furiously against her stomach, and she almost felt the need to excuse herself to the toilet to give herself some moments of reprieve and self-encouragement.

However, before she could even suggest the thought aloud, Shad looked back at her over her shoulder, his rimmed eyes round and apologetic. "Brace yourself, Your Highness."

With a sharp click, the door to the classroom was open, and all of a sudden, the bustle of the room died in an instant. Shad walked in rigidly, gesturing silently that Zelda stay outside the door for a few moments longer before entering after him. She watched with a careful eye as he set himself behind his desk at the head of the room, and cleared his throat. The room remained deadly silent, but she knew better than to assume that no one was in there.

Shad drummed his fingers against the desk beneath him in a timid manner. "Good morning, class."

Silence.

He cleared his throat again—a nervous tick. "Well, it…it appears we have a special new student—" _Goddesses, I'm ruined already_. "—joining us today. It's late in the year, I know, but per special request, she wished to, ah, finish out the remainder of her credits by studying with all of us here at Castleton."

It was a blatantly obvious speech that he had prepared the night before. Zelda found herself digging her nails into her palms once again. The use of the word "special" in Shad's failed attempt at a subtle introduction had set it off, she assumed. So much for blending in.

Shad glanced over at her, trying to discretely cue her in, another simple task at which he failed to do.

Zelda felt her legs turn to stone. Could she really do this? She had certainly thought that she could. She definitely could when she arranged peaceful negotiations with the Gorons in the Eldin province when civil war was imminent. She had definitely succeeded in running a full "go-green" campaign for the Zora people when the river in the north had been dangerously polluted. Hell, she had even alleviated the trading tensions between Hyrule and Termina when she was only thirteen years of age. How could she not do this?

How hard could it be to walk into a classroom of twenty or so students and introduce herself?

Hardening her insecurities and steeling whatever dignity she had left, Zelda Harkinian gripped the straps of her satchel, turned gracefully on her heel, and sprinted towards the nearest restroom she could find, leaving her humiliation behind in the dust.

* * *

Castleton High was established in the old castles of first and second century Hyrule Kingdom, remodeled and restored to give the staff and the students a more comfortable, modern feel while also keeping in touch with their rich and deep cultural roots.

That was the first tidbit of information Zelda had gained on the school just by entering the name into the search engine on her laptop. Secluded in her study for a mere three days, she had collected whatever data was necessary to successfully survive the agreed three month enrollment at the academically appraised school her father and advisors so desperately wanted her to attend. She had thought that if she just learned all of the "fun facts" and whatnot before her arrival, then she would have everything she needed to prepare for her first day. There was no need for friends during this time of academic imprisonment—only the facts, the willpower, and the strength to finish the arrangement with her father as painless and as quiet as humanly possible.

However, Zelda wasn't able to fully recognize vomiting in the third floor girls' restroom as a clear first-day success. In fact, she decided to rule it as "the absolute worst possible outcome: fulfilled."

The press would most definitely have a field day with this one. Multiple headlines streamed across her eyes, and with each one that passed, she felt more and more bile rise in her throat. She hovered expectantly over the toilet.

She almost fell in when she heard a distinct knock on her stall door.

"Goddesses," she muttered aloud. It would be just her luck if the nuisance of a teacher sent someone to fetch her, and bring her back. It would be hell if it were the "designated escort" Nabooru had so insisted upon her having.

She glanced over her shoulder to look at the feet that waited patiently behind the door. Trousers and a pair of black sneakers. She ruled out all possibilities of the person being female when they spoke—"Are you alright in there?" The voice was thick, husky, almost tired. When Zelda did not give a proper response, another knock sounded. "Hello?"

Humiliating. "Never been better." Sarcasm was never her forte, but at that moment, she couldn't have cared less.

There was a brief passing of silence, and then, "Do you need help?"

That was indeed a question Zelda had been asking ever since she woke up that morning. She banged her head against the porcelain seat. "In all honesty, I'm not entirely sure," she replied. It was completely unlike her to be anything other than formal with complete and utter strangers, but again: who the hell cared at that point? Her reputation, both with the school and with the tabloids, would be in shambles before the day would end. What was the point in trying anymore?

Suddenly, there was the sound of pen scratching on paper. College-ruled notebook paper that had been cleanly ripped in half and folded was passed under the stall, pen included. Interest piqued, Zelda picked it up with a shaky hand.

Inside was a game of tic-tac-toe, with a scratchy X marked at the bottom middle box.

Despite herself, she snickered.

"Want to play?" the voice asked politely. She noticed that the person on the other side had leisurely propped himself up against the door, back facing her. "I'm not entirely in good shape myself, and I need a way to pass the time."

Zelda stared at the sheet of paper in her hand. It was stupid, really. Entirely idiotic.

She scribbled an elegant O to the left of the X and passed the sheet back under the stall.

The game continued on like that for a good ten minutes, each move skillfully placed by each player. Upon the return of the sheet for about the seventh time, when she opened it, she was unpleasantly surprised.

"Tic-tac-toe," the person stated with a certain smugness Zelda found to immediately dislike. He shifted beyond the stall. "Want to play again?"

In a perfect world, Zelda always won. No matter the game, no matter the situation, no matter the opponent—she never lost. Up until then, she had most certainly lived in an a rather perfect personal utopia.

It was _tic-tac-toe_.

How in Din's name had she lost to a complete stranger at a damn children's game?

Within two seconds, Zelda rose from the ground and swiftly slammed the stall door open to confront her mysterious rival.

Her eyes immediately locked onto shocking cobalt pearls that stared earnestly back at her. There was a bright blue sea of secrets swimming behind the glistening irises she so easily got lost in. Strands of dark blonde hair hovered over the blue so carelessly, so effortlessly, as if in attempt to hide the secrets that dangled in front of her even more so than they already were.

Electricity, nostalgia, familiarity—all of this coursed through her veins in the instant she saw him. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the blue below her.

"Who…" She knew what she wanted to say, to ask him, but she found that she could barely get the words to pass through her lips. Who are you?

A smirk played at the corners of the boy's mouth. In one swift movement, he stood up and towered over her—a good foot and a half taller than her. Too tall.

"Are you wanting a rematch?" he inquired suggestively, his hands lazily seated in his pockets and a comfortable hunch situated his posture. It wasn't unattractive on him in the slightest.

She felt vulnerable. She felt weak when he stared at her like that. It wasn't like her at all to feel inferior to anyone else but her father—especially to someone she didn't even know.

Her mouth parted, to protest to him that, no she didn't want a rematch, but instead an explanation as to why he was in the girls' restroom and why he was so interested in getting someone to play a meaningless children's game with him to just "pass the time?" It made no sense, and she pushed all of the illogical feelings she had experienced—was experiencing, she corrected—when she looked at him.

And what in the ever-loving _hell_ was a boy doing sitting in a ladies' restroom?

"Who in Din's name do you think you are?" she demanded.

The boy's eyes did not falter. Instead, they seemed to intensify, making her feel so much smaller than she knew she was. The smirk did not disappear. It pissed her off.

"I'm your new best friend," he stated, as if it were common knowledge, or at least should have been. Zelda couldn't help but gape. "I was running late to class, and on the way, I heard all of these weird groaning sounds coming from here—it sounded like someone was dying. Guess that was you, huh?"

Zelda bristled.

"Anyways, since I was already late, what better way to pass the time than to make a new friend over some nice, friendly competitive games?"

Was he a _psychopath_?

"Oh, hold on." He gave her a once over, and reached a strong finger to wipe away some residual leftovers that somehow stuck to her cheek. She hardened. "There. Now all you need is a smile, and you'll be good as gold."

She felt her fingers flex instinctively. Impa had only taught her the basics of self-defense—something about never resorting to violence unless absolutely necessary, but to act when threatened. Malon had advised against any solution of the sort; said it was "bad publicity" that the media would "eat up in ten seconds flat." However, there were no cameras, no reporters, and especially no teachers in sight. Perhaps throwing a punch or two would help calm her nerves, and serve as a good example to the rest of the world that a pervert always deserved his just reward.

With all of the strength she could muster, Princess Zelda Harkinian of Hyrule pulled back her arm, and served a breathtaking jab right to rising young senior Link Forester's right lower jaw at the exact same time the fateful click of a digital camera phone went off to catch the spectacular three seconds it took to serve said punch.

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 **A/N: I hope you all enjoyed Chapter One! I plan on completing this to the very end, but I'm very slow on posting due to school and other extracurricular activities that may/will hinder the writing and updating process. Still, I hope you stick with it!**

 **Thank you for reading, and I hope you'll leave a word or two before you go. :)**


	2. A Miracle

**Thanks to all of those who took the time to read the opening chapter to Stuck! It means so much to me that people are actually reading and enjoying something I've worked really hard on. Thanks especially to those who followed, favorited, AND reviewed—you're all treasures.**

 **Please enjoy!**

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 **Chapter Two**  
 **A Miracle**

If someone were to tell Link Forester that he would be beaten and bruised to a pulp by a hundred and fifteen pound, blonde haired and violet-eyed girl that just so happened to be the reigning monarch of the country just because he had beaten said monarch in a game of tic-tac-toe, he'd have laughed in their face. Like, he really would have gotten up and laughed right in that person's face, spit and breath and all. Miracles like that didn't happen, especially not to someone like him.

What he found earlier that morning was, nonetheless, an intriguing miracle.

It had to have been fate that drove Link to enter the third floor girls' restroom in the social studies hallway after he had sprinted through staircases and empty hallways to make it to Room 333 in a failed attempt to be somewhat on time—or at least, not as late as he usually was. But how could he deny it when he heard awful and strange sounds emitting from the stalls that were located just a few ways down from his classroom? It certainly hadn't been his imagination—he was usually able to differentiate nowadays what was reality and what was definitely a dream.

Finding Princess Zelda of Hyrule vomiting in a state of undeniable anxiety and distress was definitely not a dream. Of course, he didn't know it was her, exactly, when he made the attempt at friendly contact. He had assumed it was just another new student who had unfortunately experienced a bad bout of nerves. So, being the gentleman that he was, he entered the girls' stalls and tried his to console the ailing new piece of fresh meat.

However, he couldn't have made the prediction that this particular selection of rare, premium meat would make an excellent throw at the right side of his face. (Why he was comparing girls to meat, he had no idea. It's wise not to do what he is doing right now in the real world. You have been warned.) He also couldn't have foreseen the probability that another student—a girl, _shocker_ —would come into the restroom just as the princess was about to deliver her threatening fatal blow, and conveniently bring out her camera phone and snap a perfect picture of the incredibly life-changing moment.

He made it a point to ask that girl for her number so he could properly get the picture himself later.

Link, dazed and bewildered by the prior events, stared up in awe at the furious violet irises that were boring into his own. In that moment, he believed the princess Zelda Harkinian to be at her most stunning.

"Whoa," was all he could manage after a few moments of deafening silence. His ears were ringing, and his right upper cheek blossomed with a dull, familiar pain. _Bruising for sure_.

Zelda's chest rose just as quickly as it fell, her breath short and forced. The girl with the camera made herself known by emitting a small squeak at the sight of the country's beloved figurehead punching what seemed to be just another innocent classmate. Link watched in slight amusement as the expression on the princess's face went from that of furious confidence to absolute horror.

In a regal, clipped tone, the princess said to the cowering girl, "I'm terribly sorry for what you've just seen." The words, Link could tell, were not very sincere. He was sure the girl quivering behind him noticed as well; she began taking short steps backwards as the princess made an attempt to move towards her. She released an exasperated sigh, but the traces of fear did not leave her sharp, elegant features. "I am going to ask you only once, and as politely as I possibly can. Would you please take that picture you just captured and delete it from existence?"

Link glanced over his shoulder at the timid girl behind him, and he immediately recognized her as sophomore, Marin Gold. _Damn, I'd hate to be her right now_ , he thought. He usually had a knack at taking pity on the weak and defenseless; probably his hero genes kicking in.

He snickered inwardly.

He had to bite his lip from releasing more audible fits of laughter when he witnessed Marin—sweet, innocent seaside girl Marin—shake her head slowly in surprising defiance. "Y-You just hit him," she stated, as if the fact hadn't been obvious from the bruise that slowly formed on the side of his jaw.

Princess Zelda, however, retained a perfected poker face. "To be fair," she said, each syllable slow and calculated, "he was trespassing."

Link couldn't help but outright laugh at that ridiculous statement. Both girls between him sent him a wary look—the princess's a bit more threatening.

When Marin made a point to take another step back, he watched as Princess Zelda made a slip of face. Her violet eyes widened slightly, her fingers beginning to show a bit of a tremble as she realized her reputation was almost literally slipping away from her. In that moment, Link almost felt sorry for her. But then again, he had never really felt sorry for anyone, so this was a rare moment indeed.

As he felt the tension rise and the stakes raise right along with it, he felt a light bulb go off in his head. It was brilliant—it was the perfect solution to all of his problems, or in a way, a solution to all of _Aryll's_ problems. His eyes darted back towards the princess, and he quickly hoisted himself from the ground, causing the monarch to startle.

Link shot her a flashing smile and a wink before turning his head to face Marin. She was already almost out into the hallway; she could have made any chance at a quick escape, but she hadn't taken up on the opportunity. She was a good girl, after all. From what Link knew of her, she was barely the type to hand over incriminating evidence of anyone for reputation purposes.

But he knew very well that everyone was willing to be a little bad if a little bit of cash was dangling right in front of their eyes, just barely out of reach. Hell, he'd done it a number of times, just to get food on the table.

If Marin took this to the paparazzi that were still camped outside on the main campus (He remembered maneuvering around a vast variety of expensive photography equipment earlier that morning), she'd certainly be rewarded with a hefty sum of rupees. And almost everyone in school knew how deep her family was in debt, so in all honesty, no one would really blame her for turning in a picture that basically screamed how the princess of Hyrule was actually a violent, angst-filled teenager who took pleasure in the maiming and torment of other students. And if the future leader of the country loved resorting to violence, surely Hyrule was going down a dark path towards impending destruction if she were ever to take the throne.

These were just highly probable and incredibly lame made-up headlines that could show up on the next issue of _The Gossip Stone_ or _The Hyrule Tribunal_ , but hey, it wasn't bad to plan ahead.

Link weighed his options one last time, stealing another quick glance at the princess behind him, and ultimately sealed his decision.

"Hey, look." He threw his arms up in the air—an act of defeat. He saw the princess's eyes narrow in deep suspicion, as Marin's widened. "I came in here to check up on her—" He jutted his head back at the princess. "—because I heard her crying. In an act of chivalry, I helped her out. But I guess you could say I got a little…touchy feely."

He watched as Marin's entire body flinched at the statement. A part of him gloated at how easily the girl believed him; everyone in school always seemed to be affected the same way, whether it was a lie or a truth that passed his lips. He was just that influencing of everyone, whether he liked it or not.

"What are you—" Link swiftly elbowed the princess lightly behind him before she could hiss out the rest of her interrogation. He'd apologize later.

He returned his focus on Marin. "When I got too close to her, she only did what she did to protect herself. I mean, really." He chuckled. "Wouldn't you go on the defensive if someone accidentally grabbed your ass too?"

Marin gasped. The princess gawked.

Link smiled as he did a dramatic mental countdown. _Three, two, one…_

"Oh my goddesses!" Marin hurriedly rushed over to the princess, tears budding at the corner of her eyes. "I am so sorry, Your Highness! I was about to do something awful to you, but you were only defending yourself, and—" Hiccup. "—and, and you were just doing what was right, and it was all just a big misunderstanding and—"

Link watched as the princess uncomfortably placed a hand on the girl's head, patting it in what seemed to be a failed attempt at a comforting gesture. Another snicker passed his lips, and he gleefully saw the princess throw him another threatening glare.

He could get used to staring at those eyes of hers. Usually, he hated calling girls "beautiful," because really, the adjective was overused in every cliche romantic comedy he'd ever seen/read/heard of. But if he had to apply that vomit-inducing word to anyone, it would have to be Princess Zelda, because from when he first saw her picture in the newspaper up until now, she had been regally and undeniably beautiful to him.

She was renowned for her extraordinary intelligence by the time she was seven years old. He remembered hearing about her incredible diplomatic accomplishments throughout his youth back in Ordon. Everyone in that village had been so infatuated with her, so it was hard for him to rebel against the majority, even more so when he found himself caught up in her accomplishments along with the rest of them. Ever since he caught a glimpse of her young frame in a black and white local newspaper, he'd dreamed of meeting her, to see if all of these amazing feats she'd conquered were true. He wanted to know the real her, for whatever reason. There was definitely a firm sense of familiarity between them, and deep down, he knew that she had realized it too.

He was even more entranced when she revealed her true colors to him when she delivered that insane blow to his face. It was _life-changing_.

A smug smile tugged at the edges of his lips as he watched the princess uncomfortably pry the sobbing, apologetic Marin away from her body. Tear stains and smudged mascara were smeared against the princess's white blouse.

"I'm so sorry, Your Highness," Marin sniffed.

The princess shook her head. "It's not a problem, um…"

"Marin Gold!" She brought out her phone. "I'll delete the photo right away!"

"Thank you," she said, but Link realized that she was directing it to him. Her violet eyes burned with an intense curiosity that he felt the blush creep up to his face. Odd for him, since he didn't normally blush whenever girls looked at him. _Weird_.

After Marin visually deleted the picture from her phone and sent another wave of apologies to the both of them, she exited the restroom with a puffy red face and, unbeknownst to her, ruined makeup.

When he was sure she was definitely out of earshot, Link let out a drawl sigh, successfully startling the princess yet again. "It's a shame, really. I was planning on asking her to homecoming."

The princess laid cold, calculating eyes on his. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" He grinned. There was no harm in a little teasing.

"That." She gesticulated to all of him. When he showed no signs of understanding, she sighed. "Make up that story to save my hide."

He felt his grin widen. "Can't a guy do something out of the goodness of his heart every once in a while?"

She stared at him in disbelief. "You've got to be joking."

"Ouch. That hurts, it really does." When the princess's harsh glare didn't falter, he shrugged indifferently, and tucked his arms comfortably behind his head. "Guess there's no getting past you, huh?"

"You practically ruined your own reputation for my sake." She stated it factually, refusing to look at it as a sheer act of kindness. His interest in her piqued higher. "You barely know me."

"On the contrary, everyone knows you. And besides, who cares about crap like that—reputations and whatnot."

She snorted. Another interesting trait Link picked out about her. "Look, what exactly are you hoping to gain from any of this?" He blinked at her. "Money? A favor? What?"

The amount of perception she was demonstrating was more or less impressive to him, but still, he refused to give face. Not just yet, at least. "Really, Zelda—"

" _Excuse me_?"

Link immediately realized where he—for lack of a better word, but to be honest, why should he censor himself—fucked up.

 _Shit_. He really hadn't meant to disrespect, but the name just rolled off his tongue so effortlessly—like he had called her that all along. He knew all too late that despite the shared sense of familiarity, there was no way a mere commoner such as him was allowed to refer to the future monarch of Hyrule by her first name without permission, and lacking honorifics at that.

Still, it was amazing that she even caught it so quickly. "What did you just call me?" Her voice was thick with venom, and a hard scowl sat atop her sharp-shelved features—which somehow made her look ever more pretty. Turns out the princess was definitely not used to any kind of disrespect, and that kind of reaction looked especially good on her.

Before he could talk his way out of it, beg for mercy, kiss at her feet—literally anything, a shaky voice shouted from outside the hall.

"Y-Your Highness?!"

By the irate expression on the princess's face, she knew who it was. "Yes, Mr. Shad?" she called back in the same cool voice that she had used with Marin—never losing the formality.

Link smirked at her, and she but all ignored his attempts at alleviating the atmosphere between them. At this point, he believed that the princess wouldn't end up giving him away to the teacher. Finding a male student lingering in the girls' bathroom alone with the respective monarch of their country wasn't all too good a position for either of them.

"Are you quite alright?"

With a tight-lipped frown and a glare sent in Link's direction, she called back with a polite, "Yes."

Link studied her at that moment, watching her expressions closely as they continued to betray the polite regality that her voice retained when speaking with the timid history teacher who waited beyond the exit. It was amazing, in his opinion, that the princess probably mastered an art such as this—masking her emotions through her voice when one could not see her face. She refused to dispel the image that so many citizens had of her: the ingenue, the nation's pride and joy—the vulnerable target of social attack.

Everyone in Hyrule loved their fair share of gossip, no matter the one being subjected to the media's torments. Link found that through the years of headlines and numerous, ridiculous articles, the royal family was their favorite victim. It didn't matter if she and King Daphnes were the very reason the country continued to prosper; if the press had the tiniest speck of dirt on either of them, they'd magnify it times ten to get it to sell.

And if Link remembered correctly, the last headline that was released about Princess Zelda was in no ways gratifying. He remembered reading over the lines—hundreds of awful and negative words written out in an attack against a simple mistake made by a teenage girl—and crumpling the paper. The media loved to feed on negative emotions, and Princess Zelda, for once, had practically hand wrapped them the right ammunition to do just that.

For the first time in history, the Princess of Hyrule, the eternal epitome of regality and grace, had been charged with public intoxication just two months ago. He recalled all of the commotion the news had caused; the catalyst that set off a wave of gossip and rumors within Castleton High alone. Though Link paid no heed to the ridicule, he did feel in turn, just a little bit bad for the princess he barely knew.

It had taken a month for the buzz to die, and another month for the masses to almost completely forget. However, it wouldn't take much for the princess's reputation to be jeopardized once again.

All it would take is a compromising photo and one student's biased account that would set off a nuclear chain of endless possibilities.

If Marin had turned that picture over to any of the paparazzo waiting around outside, like animals ready to pounce on their prey, they'd attack with everything they've got.

To a degree, Link begrudgingly understood—it was their job, their livelihoods. They were paid to do this kind of dirty work. However, he couldn't shake the sickening feeling he got whenever he saw those hurtful, ridiculous articles released about the royal family—especially Princess Zelda.

But he'd never admit that to anyone.

Shad's cracking voice pierced through his thoughts. "Are you ready to come back and introduce yourself to the class, Your Highness?"

Link realized that Zelda—shit, the _princess_ —had been putting her diplomatic assets to good use in an attempt to talk her way out of having to going back to her classroom. But she was running out of reasons to escape, and her expression grew wary.

She bit her lip, her brows furrowed in deep contemplation. In act of desperation and assuringly setting all differences and suspicions aside, she looked up at him for confirmation. He had been there when she was at her lowest, so he assumed she was asking for a quick evaluation if she was truly ready to face her adolescent peers just a few ways down in the next room.

They'd probably already been talking about her—whether it was nasty or pleasant, Link had no idea. However, he knew that in an effort to gain the favor he needed, he needed to keep somewhat on her good side, even if she had given him a good throttle after losing a simple game of tic-tac-toe.

He gave her a short nod. She'll be fine.

The princess lowered her head and sighed.

"I'm coming out."

* * *

It was one thing to have the princess of Hyrule punch him dead on in the face.

It was another to see her so obviously mortified that Link had followed her into Room 333 and taken his respective seat by the back right corner, parked cozily next to the window. He couldn't shake the bemused grin that graced his lips when he witnessed her jaw practically drop to the floor.

Mr. Shad had set his hand awkwardly on her shoulder, trying to be encouraging but failing in every possible way. It was a miracle that Shad hadn't connected the dots between him and the princess—he'd stealthily made his way behind the two of them after the princess exited the bathroom. Shad hadn't noticed a thing when Link walked in late to class, per usual.

"Class," he began, his voice cracking on the word, "please be respectful to our new student, as she will most assuredly have a hard time adjusting to this new change of pace."

Link watched the princess cringe slightly. She definitely did not like being the center of attention. Ironic.

A wave of whispers passed hurriedly over the class, rumors of incredible stupidity being thrown around left and right as they all eagerly waited for the princess to say something after Shad had finished introducing her.

He felt a pang of pity for her—that is, until she stepped up and began to speak.

"Hello," she greeted, her voice equivalent to the chiming of bells. It was an impressive change from the calculating frigidness she had so easily spoke in before. A blinding smile stretched from ear to ear, so much that Link almost had to shield his eyes. "My full name is Zelda Honoria Alexandria Harkinian, but please, call me Zelda."

A harmonious sound of admiration flooded the room as the princess gave the most breathtakingly realistic performance of her life. All talk of negativity and ruined reputations dispersed in an instant, the atmosphere returning to that of sheer adoration amongst the students. She played off the innocent new girl to a tee, almost convincing Link that everything from before had been merely an act.

But he knew better than to believe that.

"I hope to meet with many of you, and make new friends as I take these final months to study with you all." Her cheerful smile did not fade as she gracefully tipped her head to the classroom. "Please take care of me."

If that had been her inaugural speech, Princess Zelda would have won over the hearts of many, even of those who openly or silently opposed her. She certainly succeeded in capturing the hearts of all of her classmates.

Link grinned. These next few months would be a hell of a lot of fun.

A balled up piece of paper flicked his forehead, rousing him from his thoughts. Midna Darks looked over at him with her expectant, trademarked smirk.

"So," she said, pointing to the bruise that was no doubt blatantly visible now on his face, "what'd you do to that poor princess in the bathroom?"

* * *

 **That's it for Chapter Two! Updates won't be nearly as fast as this, but since I have a good amount of chapters already written out, it shouldn't be too long before the next update.  
**

 **Leave or word or two before you go? :)**

 **Jules**


	3. Interesting

**Thanks to all who've read the story so far! Incredibly grateful to every single person who took the time to read :)**

 **Please enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter Three**  
 **Interesting  
**

Zelda usually wasn't the type to be shocked/surprised/blown away by any means; in fact, she had thought herself extremely skilled at masking her emotions—very much necessary when on track to leading an entire nation at the ripe young age of seventeen.

There had only been two accounts at which Princess Zelda Harkinian of Hyrule had been truly and genuinely surprised: when she had been told she would have to attend Castleton High as means to an end for her oh-so benevolent foreign counterparts as well as her father; and when that boy from the restroom had turned out to, indeed, be the suggested "escort" Vice Principal Nabooru Sands had mentioned earlier that morning.

Perhaps surprised wasn't the right word—it was more of a mortification sort of deal. When she watched as the smug jerk (for lack of a better word) happily took his seat right behind the vacant one she just knew Mr. Shad would make her take—just like she just knew that he would make that boy her permanent "tour guide" for the remainder of her stay. He had announced to the class in that thin, cracking voice of his that the sheer verbal acknowledgement that the boy—"Mr. Forester"—would be her designated escort made her blood run cold.

And to top it all off, the bastard was _sleeping_ through most of it. (She had seen him conversing with the Twili girl next to him before he made a visually firm decision to take a nap. Idiotic.)

That raised another question—since when did Twili attend schools outside of their province? Was this a matter she hadn't been aware of? A new development in the social political world perhaps? She was sure that the Twili were rather reserved people; they tended to be somewhat of a proud race. She mentally shrugged it off for the time being, making sure to come back to it when the dreadfully painful day ended, and she could discuss more comfortable subjects with her father and advisors later that night—subjects on like how to run a country.

"Your High—ahem, Miss Zelda?" Mr. Shad made it a point to vocalize his constant correction of her title. Goddesses. "Please take your seat in front of Mr. Forester. Oh." He ripped a tissue from the convenient box he had handy on his desk. In a quieter voice, he added, "You may want to take some time and remove the, ah, stains on your shirt."

Looking down at her blouse, she noticed the damage that girl from earlier had done when she sobbed all over her.

She refused to scream; instead, she accepted the offer and put on a smile.

 _Forester_. She glided through the aisle, choosing to ignore the mixture of gazes she received on her way, and slid into her desk. There was the discomforting sound of a light snore right behind, and she bit her tongue in hopes of suppressing an audible groan.

It was his surname, for sure. If it had been his first name, it would only serve as ironic proof of how much of a douchebag he had demonstrated himself to be—Forester just sounded like a douchebag first name, but didn't sound nearly as incriminating as a last one.

 _Seriously, "touchy-feely?"_ She shook her head. _Give me a break._

Still though, she had to admit his sudden act of chivalry (if she could even call it that) had been borderline admirable, but nonetheless, it was still questionable. There was an unspoken motive about his actions—no one was that kind as to help someone like her out. If he had been smart, he would have joined in on that girl's—what was her name? Marin?—scheme and taken a good portion of the sum that they both would receive for handing over such a valuable idea of a new headline.

She wondered just how many people had done the same exact thing in the past years.

As Shad (she recently discovered his last name was "Knowing"—how symbolic and completely ironic) began a very detailed lecture on the ancient worship temples of the nation—a subject she had already covered at age eight—she stole a glance over her shoulder to the sleeping form of the boy, Forester.

She had to admit: when he was like this—arms folded, head situated comfortably in the little nook between forearm and shoulder, eyes closed—he wasn't too bad. In a way, he was almost cute. Except for the fact that he had something he wanted from her, and it was going to take her a good amount of persuasion and difficulty to get him to spit it out.

Favors were impossibly tedious to her, but she hated being in someone's debt; it made her feel less in control. If she owed someone something, she would do whatever she could to make sure it was taken care of as soon as possible; she hated having them dangled in front of her, just out of her reach. Many people she knew—friends, acquaintances, fellow diplomats—had often used her title to get whatever they could out of her.

How was this boy any different?

As she brought her eyes up, she realized that she was being watched by a pair of brilliant crimson eyes. She tore away, heart beating rapidly out of her chest. Had she seen? Of course, the answer was obvious; she'd caught her staring, for Din's sake. But nothing could come from that.

It was the Twili girl that Forester had been talking with not moments ago before he dosed off. Perhaps it was his girlfriend? For some reason, Zelda felt that that wasn't the case.

The girl was definitely an exotic beauty; her alabaster skin, flaming red hair, and exquisitely chiseled cheekbones suddenly had Zelda feeling self conscious about her own looks.

For a split second, she could have sworn that she had seen the girl somewhere before. It wasn't the kind of explosive feeling she experienced when she had encountered Forester for the first time; no, it was something more of a _You look famous, have I seen you in the news_ kind of thing. The intricate, midnight black tattoos that covered her body (a well-known trait for higher ranked Twili) gave the implication of royalty. An upperclass member perhaps? But if so, why had they gone through the trouble of traveling so far just to come here? Zelda couldn't wrap her head around it. If she had had a choice in the matter, she would most certainly be anywhere but here.

She sighed, and cast her gaze to her folded hands. She just hoped that for what it was worth, the day—no, these next three _months_ , would go by as quickly as possible.

Upon the end of Shad's "stimulating" lecture, Zelda examined the civil unrest that was slowly building up to this moment. Some were fidgeting with their bags, others gripping the edge of their desks with such vigor she was almost certain the whole thing would collapse to the floor in a million pieces. She checked the time: 9:35am—two minutes away from sweet release.

She risked another glance at the boy behind her. As expected, he was still fast asleep, probably dreaming about some sick fantasies up in that narrow mind of his. She scoffed. _And to think he's supposed to be responsible for my educational wellbeing for he next month_.

"Well, then, class." Shad closed the textbook he'd had on hand, and adjusted his glasses. "That ends the lesson for today. Please ensure to read over chapters ten through twelve tonight before your test this upcoming Friday." His hooded eyes landed on Zelda in the back. "Your High—Miss Harkinian—" He coughed awkwardly. "—Mr. Forester will be more than happy to escort you to your next class." He gathered his things, and prepared to make a daring exit before she could make any means of protest. "Good luck!"

And just like that, with the teacher making a clean-cut exit from the classroom, every student's gaze sharpened and turned directly towards her. Like vultures to a carcass (what an odd analogy to apply to this situation, but frankly, she couldn't have cared less), they swarmed around her desk, closing in on her.

Just like the paparazzi outside before, an arsenal of questions began to fire at her at once; so loud that she was surprised that Forester was not fazed at all by the onslaught of bullet fire.

"Your Highness! Is it true that you and Lord Ambi were—"

 _Bam._

"About that one article about you being caught at the Milk Bar—"

 _Bam._

"Was your publicist, Malon Ranche, really the one who—"

"Princess, was it true that you got arrested last—"

"Were you always a party girl or—"

 _Bam. Bam. Bam._

Each question shot was like the silver bullet version of an underlined insult—it penetrated her deep, getting into most topics she'd thought were long forgotten by the public. She shouldn't have been so oblivious as to think those articles and rumors would just die.

In vain, she tried to shield herself the best way she knew how—she stared blankly at the space ahead, and ignored their vicious attack. It worked usually. If she just pretended not to hear them, not to hear all of the allegations that were intertwined in their seemingly harmless attempts at curiosity, they'd go away. A stoic ruler was far better than a reckless one, as her father had once put it.

But she desperately wished the bell would just ring already so it would be over.

"Hey—HEY!" A voice, unfamiliar to her, cut through the war zone like a knife. The hysteria surrounding her suddenly faltered; a few of the students turned their heads to reprimand the disruption. Zelda was surprised to find that it was the Twili girl that sat diagonal from her, hands on her hips and her eyes burning with a heated intensity. "Do you idiots have nothing better to do? You're making her _uncomfortable_." She spat the words out viciously. "By Nayru above, how can you not see that?"

A few students mumbled retorts under their breath, to which the girl immediately sent them a glare filled with daggers. The rest looked pointedly at anywhere else but her. As they slowly dispersed, with some muttering a quick apology, Zelda felt a wave of relief wash over her.

The bell rang, and the classroom emptied out, leaving in it only Zelda, the Twili girl, and the sleeping perverted bathroom trespasser; a perfect trio.

"Well," the girl said, startling her, "sorry that the saying 'saved by the bell' couldn't be literally applied to that bloodbath, but hey, getting help was better than nothing, eh?"

Zelda, in a daze, nodded. That was twice today someone had saved her from a tricky situation; that made it two people she was indebted to. Damn. "Thank you for that." A beat. "It really wasn't necessary."

The girl scoffed. "I'll say. It looked like you were a dead girl walking for a second there!" She shook her head. "Seriously, did you think that just by ignoring them they'd suddenly have a come-to-Hylia moment and walk away? Get over yourself."

Zelda was stunned. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"What you've just said was extremely disrespectful and rather insulting, especially when you're in the presence of—"

"Don't you even try to get all high and mighty with me, Your Highness. I won't take that kind of bullshit." She snickered. "And didn't you just say earlier that you wanted to be treated like a normal student? Goddesses, how cliche can you get?"

She was beginning to fume. Debt or no debt, she refused to take such reprimand from someone she hardly even knew. "You're best to watch how you speak to me. I may be just another student while I'm stuck here, but outside, I have more power in my entire pinkie than you could ever hope to have in your entire body. Don't talk as if you know what it's like to be subjected to that kind of god-awful torment day after day."

There was a harsh drum of silence between the two of them. The girl's eyes gave her a hard once over before she turned her head and sighed. "Look, I get it—I really do. You're angry you're here, and you're mad about having a favor hang over your head, am I right?" Before Zelda had the chance to respond, she held up a hand and smirked. "Don't ask how I know—I just do. Just like how I also know that you're the one who gave dumb ass over here that nasty bruise right in the kisser."

She caught on that the "dumb ass" the girl was referring to was indeed who had first come to mind: Forester.

In a sudden change of atmosphere, the girl offered a hand as a sincere smile graced her lips. "Let's start over. My name's Midna Darks. And you?"

She blinked. Did she really have no idea who she was? Had she not been paying attention?

"Let me rephrase that," Midna said quickly with a laugh. "Should I call you 'princess' or 'Zelda'?" When she didn't receive an answer, she added, "Or I could call you Z-Funk—come to think of it, that sounds pretty good."

"Zelda…" She trailed off, wondering how in the world someone could have done a complete one-eighty so quickly. Before she had been so hostile, and now it was like she suddenly wanted to be friends or something like that. "Zelda's fine," she said, shaking Midna's hand.

"Sorry I went all Gerudo on you for a minute there," Midna said. "I guess you could say I'm just as frustrated as you are with all that paparazzi shit going on lately. They really don't have a filter, do they?"

At this, Zelda agreed. "It doesn't seem like it."

A warning bell rang overhead. Midna sighed, and swung her backpack over her shoulder. "Watch out for this one, Z-Funk." She pointed at the sleeping figure that still managed to remain oblivious to everything around him. "He's a complete and total slacker."

"What does that mean?" She decided to ignore the rather outlandish nickname Midna had so generously bestowed upon her. The girl in question suddenly began making her way to the door. "Wait a second!" She looked helplessly back and forth between her and the boy next to her. "What do I do about him—um, about Forester?"

Midna pondered for a second on her answer before smirking and saying, "It means that if you don't wake him up, he's just gonna stay like that for however long he wants."

Before she left, she snickered, "And his first name's Link. Just for future reference."

* * *

Midna had been correct. Zelda had idly waited, hoping that this boy—Link—would somehow wake up in time for him to navigate her to her next class. (It was Sciences, which had never really been as exciting to her, so she was somewhat grateful for his lack of sleep.) He continued on snoring, however, straight into second block. She realized that she could have simply asked for someone else to give her directions, but some part of her wanted her to stay. And for a rare moment in her life, she decided _why the hell not_ and sat patiently in the desk beside him.

Only, now that she had missed a considerable amount of class time, she wasn't as patient as before—actually, scratch that, she was _very_ impatient.

She was surprised that at one point, he really had opened his eyes, but as quickly as he opened them, he drifted back into a deep sleep.

Zelda carefully surveyed the area; there was no Shad (he had gone and taken an early lunch) and no class. The door was promptly shut, and all classes were in session, so chances of a student happening to walk by and actually look into the classroom were very slim.

Slim enough for her to crack her knuckles, and smack the peaceful Link hard on the back of the neck.

" _SHIT_!" He jolted upright, his hands flying to where she had delivered yet another successful blow to his physical body and—hopefully—his ego. He muttered multiple curses under his breath as he tenderly rubbed the spot that was now blossoming into a deep red color.

"Cursing somehow doesn't suit you very well," she said aloud. She cupped her hands and placed her chin comfortably in their palms as she studied him a bit more clearly. "You were much more tolerable when you were asleep, that's for sure."

He shot her a hard glare and—suddenly remembered it was her. Really, his expressions were very easy to read—much like a picture book with vibrant obnoxious colors that just screamed, _Here's what you really need to look at! Look at me! This picture right here!_

A coy grin curled at his mouth. "Thanks so much for the wake up call, princess," he said, his irritation sketched into his soft features. "Was that really necessary?"

"Which part—the part where I hit you, or the part where I just insulted your intellectual integrity?"

"Both," he muttered. (Side note: Link Forester was extremely irritable when fatigued.)

Zelda tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Then, yes. It was very necessary."

He ran his free hand through his dark blonde tresses, disheveling the locks more than needed—his hair was already distractingly messy enough. "I don't get much sleep," he said, as if that were some well-known fact that she should have picked up on. "Besides, it's still early. Being awake doesn't matter yet."

"That's your prerogative I suppose." When he cast her a look of inquiry, she just shrugged, and rose from her seat. "You're little power nap has made me incredibly late for my chemistry class and—"

"Chemistry?" he straightened up a little, but the heaviness of his lids was still trying to draw him back to sleep. "What room? Teacher?"

"Are you deliberately trying to change the subject or—"

"Come on, just answer."

She sighed. "Room 214 with Professor Granny."

"Professor Grams!" he exclaimed. Any lingering signs of fatigue vanished from his appearance. "Ah, you'll like her. She's sort of weird and smells like cats, but she's cool enough. This one time last month, we were in lab, and she had us make this dank smelling potion, and it turns out it was cat litter. Cat litter!" He burst into a fit of laughter. "Can you believe it?"

Zelda furrowed her brows. "Are you always this…erratic?"

Link pursed his lips thoughtfully, and decided with a hard shake of his head. "Not really. Just around you, it seems."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You just seem so, I don't know—" He struggled to find the word. "—stiff. It feels like you need a little excitement to get you to show a different expression every now and then."

She blanked. "Stiff," she repeated slowly. "You think I'm too stiff."

He nodded.

"Goddesses." She bit her tongue, trying relatively hard not to implode. "Look, please just inform me on how to get to Professor 'Grams's' class so that we can finally go our separate ways."

"Now, why would we do that?" Before she could protest, he wagged his finger. "Come on, princess, you didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, right? You forget—" He smirked. Goddesses damn that smirk. "You owe me."

She felt her entire nerves bristle with anger. He was definitely referring to that favor she owed him; what, she had no idea—she just hoped he'd get it over with and just tell her.

Except, he didn't do that. "I was designated as your escort right?"

"You were _awake_?"

"Selective hearing," he corrected her. "Even when you're sleeping—or at least, for me—it's kind of hard to block certain stuff out. And that was something I managed to hear. So." He stood up out of his chair and took a big stretch. Mid yawn, he asked, "Ready to roll?"

All she could manage to do was stare at him in disbelief. So, he had heard all—or at least some—of what those people had said. He probably even heard her encounter with—

"Oh, how'd you like Midna?" She was right. "She's pretty unique, right? I mean, yeah, she can be one hell of a bitch, but once you get to know her, she really warms up—well, maybe cools down, in her case." His cobalt eyes flashed with curiosity. "Hey, you okay? You look pale, kind of like how you did back in the bathroom. Are you gonna be sick again or—"

"Please stop talking."

* * *

Throughout the remainder of the day, Zelda couldn't shake the creeping feeling that she was being tormented by some kind of higher power.

"What have I done, gods?" she had asked quietly after learning that with every class she attended thus far, she shared it with _him_. "Have I killed someone in a past life? Was what happened all those months ago really so unforgivable as to have this hellish nightmare be handed to me on a silver platter?"

Link had looked over at her with his gleaming blue eyes at that point, and bonked her lightly on the head. "The dramatics don't really work for you," he had said. "But don't worry—you're still pretty hot."

 _Please someone kill me_.

After many more insufferable hours of being followed—sorry, "escorted"—to every class, only to find out that, what did she know, Link had it too, and have her ear inevitably talked off, the end of the day finally arrived. The end, where she could walk out freely into the open world where that beautiful black SUV would be waiting for her to just slide in leisurely and take her back to Castleton Heights, where her big beautiful bed would be waiting with beautiful soft satin sheets to just take her in and let her disappear into another beautiful world for a good twelve beautiful hours before she'd have to return the nightmare she called reality.

She had to admit however, that when Link walked with her—more like behind her, but still—the lingering remnants of the paparazzi hoard hadn't really bothered her all that much. It was like his chattering served as such an irate distraction that the vying of camera flashes and certain triggering questions didn't seem to faze her as they usually did before. She had discovered this when she had to walk across the main campus to the arts department building for Orchestra. (Thankfully, this served as the only class she did not share with Link. But he did not fail to inform her that his block was free, so from time to time he would make sure to "pop on by" to listen to her play. This would serve as a future problem that must be taken care of.)

When the final bell rang, signifying the end to the hellish day, it was difficult to contain her glee. She shared her last class with both Link and the Twili girl, Midna. While she found the latter much more tolerable a nuisance to deal with, the former on the other hand would be more of a joy to escape from and more of an obstacle to avoid when she returned day after day. So with little difficulty, she snatched up her textbooks, viciously shoved them into her satchel, and hightailed it out of Castleton High without so much as a glance backwards.

However, perhaps she should have looked back—because unbeknownst to her until she arrived outside on the main campus (the paparazzi had finally left after a few more hours of waiting for her to bail or something along those lines), Link Forester, followed by Midna, had been nipping at her heels to grab her attention.

She must have mastered at blocking out his incessant chatter at that point; she certainly hadn't heard him calling after her until she was almost within fifty feet of the school gates.

"Yo, princess!"

"Z-Funk!"

 _Goddesses_.

And to think she would have been gone by now.

She turned and faced them. Link, with the smug smirk she began to find was a common trait with him, waved a more than familiar looking wallet high in the air above his head. She felt all the blood drain from her body.

"How in Hyrule—" She unclasped the latch on her satchel and scoured the contents. Her wallet was missing. "I could've sworn it was…"

He jogged over, Midna sticking close behind with a bemused grin. "I found it in the hallway after you sprinted out of Home Ec." He gave it another taunting wave. _Bastard_. "Make sure to be more careful next time, princess. You never know who could take advantage of this opportunity."

When Zelda reached out for it, he snapped it back. "Hey don't kill the mood, princess!" He pried it open, and to her horror, began to search its contents. However, surprisingly, he skipped past the pocket that concealed a multitude of colorful paper rupees, and went straight for the compartment that held three very important photos.

Of course, he just had to pull out the one she didn't want to see. He studied it closer, and whistled. "Is this who I think it is? Lord Am—"

"Return it." Struggling to maintain tight control of an onset of emotions she had not been ready to feel, she instead set a sharp glare on his cobalt blue eyes. No matter how mesmerizing they could be, Zelda felt her rage rapidly reaching its boiling point. "How _dare_ you go through my personal property, and continue to taunt me in such an incredible act of disrespect?"

Her eyes felt hot, and she shot them straight to the ground. She could not afford to cry in front of someone like him. She felt her body tighten in habitual reflex to halt the burning tears she felt gradually threatening to make an embarrassing appearance. How had someone as immensely infuriating such as Link Forester managed to bring her to such a pathetic state of humility? How had he succeeded in making her feel like such a fool? She was a princess—a powerful monarch on path to come to rule a country caught in a struggling but nonetheless prosperous time. How could one mere boy make her feel so…affected?

There had been a dragging moment of silence. Link had halted his taunting, and Zelda felt that he was staring at her with an intimacy that only made her feel even more vulnerable than before.

She _hated_ him.

Midna nudged him, her face lacking all signs of humor. "Stop being a dick. Just give it back to her. That's all you had to do."

Shrugging, he handed it back to Zelda, who swiped it out of his hands before he could change his mind. "All in good fun," he muttered.

"Thank you," she said to Midna, refusing to reply to anything Link said. Ever. "You were the one who really found it, I'm guessing?"

"Wow, you sure are sharp." She laughed. "I told you to watch out for this guy. You gotta be sure to listen to me next time. But yeah I found it on the floor, and immediately was like 'Yup, this is definitely Z-Funk's.' Like really, no one in all of Hyrule has wallets this huge anymore. But when this dumb ass finds out it's yours, he takes it from me and dashes—I mean, really dashes. Guy may be a complete asshole—" She emphasized the word with heated annoyance. "—but I gotta admit, he's fast as all hell. Anyways, yeah so here we are, wallet and all returned." Her eyes grazed the area. "Must be nice not to have those annoying fuckers out here hounding you, am I right?"

"Hey, watch your language," Link warned with a teasing tone. "You're in the presence of royalty."

Midna rolled her eyes, and Zelda came to find herself taking a liking to her—a shared commonality in disliking jerk wads like Link. A very refreshing breath of air after a day of continuous suffocation.

"Well," she said as she placed her wallet gingerly back into her satchel, "I should be going. Thank you very much again, Midna, for finding my wallet and also for what you did in Mr. Shad's class. It was still not necessary, but nonetheless very much appreciated."

She waved a dismissive hand. "No prob, Z-Funk. Least I can do for starting off on the wrong foot."

Zelda grimaced at the nickname, but decided to politely ignore it. She nodded to Link, who was practically waiting for some kind of similar treatment. "Forester. I will reluctantly thank you for showing me to my classes, and saving me from a risky situation earlier." He opened his mouth, but she raised a hand to silence him. "However, I refuse to grant you any favors—no matter what."

He blinked. "Why?"

"Because—" She jabbed an aggressive finger at him to punctuate every word. "—you…piss…me… _off_."

Link's eyes widened. After processing her words, he began to chuckle. "Yeah, well…" He scratched the back of his head. "Guess that's better than nothing."

With that said and done, she uttered a quick "goodbye" to Midna exclusively and ran out past the gates to the car that patiently waited for her. Sliding in, she slammed the door, and released a deep exhale in relief—something she felt she hadn't been able to do all day.

"Still back all in one piece, I see," Impa called from the driver's seat, her red eyes peering back at her young ward in the rearview mirror. "How did it all go?"

The car began to drive away from the school, and the last thing Zelda saw was an overly smug Link Forester, who stood at the entrance of the gates, waving goodbye as she disappeared within the surrounding buildings of Castleton. She heaved a sigh.

She laid her head comfortably against the glass. "It was interesting."

* * *

The Harkinian Palace was just as grand as one would expect. A grand stone fountain sat in the middle of the lengthy, paved driveway that circled around it elegantly, crystal clear water gurgling out of the middle. The grounds were three times as big as a football field, and the ivory-colored stone walls of the palace could be seen as a small spectacle upon the horizon. For just two members of the royal family with a staff of loyal servants and trusted advisors, the palace itself was still immensely huge.

Zelda had always found it quite tedious getting around; instead of it taking a few seconds, it took a minute or two to make her way to the kitchen for a snack; four if she were to have a visit with her father in his study; five even if she ever wanted to go down to the pool from her room. It was a chore, but perhaps that was a luxury she should be grateful for.

Impa put the car in park as it smoothed to a stop in front of the grand staircase. "His Majesty wished for me to inform you that he will not be able to join you for dinner tonight, but is still expecting a full report on how your first day went."

Zelda sighed. "Thank you, Impa. Please let him know I'll send him a documented account by nine tonight." She paused. "Did he say anything about the trades with—"

"I'm sorry, princess, but His Majesty gave me strict instruction to not disclose any further government affairs of any kind until your three months at Castleton are fully complete." Impa hesitated, but added, "He also said that you won't be participating in any decisions until the agreement is done, and that you have proved to him that you have matured beyond your...rash decisions."

Her heart dropped—it was one thing to punish her by forcing her to attend school, but it was vastly another to exclude her from her responsibilities. Had he really lost so much faith in her? "Impa, is there not anyway I could—"

"I'm afraid not, Your Highness."

Her hands balled up into clenched fists. "Then what in Hylia's name am I supposed to do for the remainder of the evening? Just sit and wait for Father to come around? That was not how I was raised—this is not what we agreed upon. I have a duty to my country."

It was Impa's turn to sigh. She unbuckled her seat belt and turned around to fully look at her with apologies written all over her expression. "I sympathize with your plights, Zelda, I do. However, I regret to inform you that it was a part of the agreement you had decided upon with His Majesty. You would focus on your new studies at Castleton, while he took care of everything else." She placed a reassuring hand on her knee, but it didn't help her feel any less angry in the slightest. "You must be patient—above all else, have patience."

She exploded. "How can I have patience when I'm kept from my responsibilities as the future queen of this country?" she retorted. "There is no reason to exclude me from such important matters, most of which _I_ had raised; that _I_ had congregated! How can he just order me to set everything I've worked so hard for aside?"

Impa simply stared, and Zelda knew—there was nothing more she could say that would change anything. Her father's orders were superior to any she could ever give, no matter how loyal Impa had been to her since birth. When it came to her wellbeing, her caretaker would take whatever precautions necessary to see it carried out.

And obviously, her father's orders were strictly precaution. That only meant that Impa, no matter how much she knew she loved Zelda, had agreed that the best thing to do was to keep her out of all that had ever mattered to her.

In heat, Zelda rushed out of the car, and slammed the door with as much force as she could muster. Sprinting up the stairs, and through numerous marble hallways, she entered her bedroom and shut the door with such force it quivered in fear. She threw her satchel against the wall in a fit of rage, causing latch to loosen and all of the material inside to collapse to the floor.

Chest heaving and heart sinking, she dropped on her knees to the floor. Something warm caressed her cheeks, and she brought a finger to her face.

Tears. They streamed down her face—slowly at first, and then with realization came, all of the tears she carried suddenly escaped all at once. The warm salt burst, as her body convulsed in short breaths and multiple sobs that followed. She couldn't remember the last time she cried like this—definitely not when all of those awful articles were released after the previous month's horrific incident. Then, it was more of a dull ache in her chest, like she had wanted to cry—that it would have been better to cry, but the tears just wouldn't come out.

But now, having been barred from doing what had been the normal constant in her life, she felt hopeless and useless. She wasn't good for much, in all honesty. There was her intelligence, her intuition, her "ageless wisdom," as her father had so affectionately put it—but all of her talents and mental attributes had always been applied to her efforts to better the country of Hyrule. And now, after one blurry night of idiotic choices that had occurred due to months of slowly accumulated stress and late nights, it was as if all of her father's trust and faith in her as a competent ruler had vanished.

She had made a mistake—how could she make her father see that she wished she could take it all back?

After taking a few minutes to calm herself down, she wiped her nose on her blazer sleeve, and began to clean up and gather the items that fell from her satchel. Eventually, she picked up her wallet. Instead of putting it back into the bag, she held onto it. She returned to her bed, and with a long sigh, opened the clasp.

She was startled when a ripped slip of college-ruled notebook paper floated down from a loose slot along with the picture Link had taunted her with. She hesitantly unfolded the paper first, refusing to acknowledge that photo again, and was surprised to find a short note followed by a series of numbers and an exceedingly poor attempt at a generic smiley face.

 _In case u need help w homework or—okay, who am i kidding, i just wanted to give you my number. i don't ever do or ever know_ jack shit _about homework. EVER. anyways, here you go_  
 _697555XXXX_

 _sincerely,_  
 _that one asshole :-)_  
 _P.S. here's Midna's number, too, because she's forcing me to put it down (help me)_  
 _697554XXXX_

For a while, she couldn't comprehend it. When had he put it in there? And then she remembered—he had time to slip it in before returning it to her. He'd probably written it prior to everything, she assumed. He'd probably meant to give it to her before she left, or maybe even earlier than that.

And for a good while, she laughed. Despite the remnants of tears that flowed along with it, she genuinely laughed at the ridiculous gesture of…well whatever Link Forester was attempting. It was idiotic, and quite frankly very simple, to slip in his mobile number (in addition to Midna's) right into her own wallet. He didn't have much common sense, but she had to admit—he was showing much promise in the area of subterfuge.

She laughed again, and for a moment, all of her anger was forgotten.

 _What an interesting day indeed._

* * *

 **Make sure to leave a word before you go!**


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